By the Kitchen Fire
by vierblith
Summary: TezukaFuji. Oneshot. Cinderella!AU: Kunimitsu puts up with his father’s decision of marrying another woman after his mother’s death. When he grows older, Kunimitsu meets a person who only wants to make him happy.


**By the Kitchen Fire  
****Fairy Tale:** Cinderella  
**Rating:** PG 13  
**Warnings:** Fantasy!AU. Fluff!  
**Summary:** Compelled to respect every decision his father makes, Kunimitsu puts up with his father's decision of marrying another woman after his mother's death. When he grows older, Kunimitsu meets a person who, quite like the faeries in tales, seems to do everything to make him happy.  
**Disclaimer:** PoT is all Konomi's and Cinderella doesn't have copyright, does it? Except maybe the Disney movie and the musicals.

**A/N:** This fic was originally written for the **Perfect Tales** community in LJ. As per request, I changed the gender of the main Cinderella characters. (I made them gay.) This is very loosely based on the anime series _Cinderella Monogatari_. The setting is my creation. Please enjoy! (I hope you won't get bored with the long intro.) I'd also like to thank my beta (**The Grey Lady**) who endured the length of this tale.

**By the Kitchen Fire**

In the vast continent of Slev was a curious and affluent kingdom called Nidenea. Like all nations in Slev, Nidenea was bounded by magic, but its peoples' beliefs in faeries set it apart from its neighbors. According to tales of old, faeries watched over young people who had lost their parents, giving aid through ancient magic that even the greatest of enchanters could not master. In Western Nidenea, which was lined with rows of mountains and hills, the traveling singers sang that faeries were well away from human sight, that faeries secretly granted their charges' wishes at night. In Eastern Nidenea, where the air smelt of brine from the sea of Zaimir, the storytellers said that faeries dwelled among mortals, enjoying the company of their charges. Although the East and the West differed in these notions of faeries, they agreed on one thing: faeries did everything to make their charges happy.

At the heart of Nidenea, where East met West and where people believed that faeries could be both invisible and visible to mortal eye, stood the Castle, which towered over a hundred meters high. A little to the east of the Castle – about an hour away if one dared travel on foot, some fifteen minutes away if one had access to a carriage, or a mere second away if one had learned magic – was the famous county of Sephrea.

Due to its proximity to the Castle, Sephrea was fairly well-off; the houses were tall and grand; the people were polite and formal. Thus, young men and women of Sephrea did not trouble themselves with harvest or chores. Every night, young men and women danced away in balls. Each morning, young men and women rode away to picnic parties. Each day, young men and women dressed themselves in clothes of the latest fashion. All young men and women of Sephrea spent their days lavishly. That is, all but one.

Every morning, before the sun sent the sky blazing with red and orange streaks, Kunimitsu Tezuka would rise from his stiff bed and reach for a pair of frameless glasses on his windowsill. He would pause for a moment and frown disapprovingly at the window that hung and creaked no matter how many times he fixed it. Sometimes, his eyes would fall on the Castle that his window overlooked, or sometimes he would ignore the Castle completely, and then he would clean himself, put on a set of well-worn but spotless clothes, and get to work before any other soul stirred in the household.

He would fix his bed, making sure that the stiff pillows did not sag and the starched blankets did not crease. He would wipe away a thin layer of dust from the four furniture items that comprised his room: an unsteady little desk, a small, rickety chair, a narrow old closet, and a creaky well-filled bookcase. Then, he would go down to the hot but tidy kitchen to prepare breakfast. While everyone else ate, he would scrub the floor, wipe the windows, tidy other rooms, feed the horses, pluck garden vegetables, and split some logs. Only after he finished all these would he have a cold repast in the kitchen. After his simple meal, he would set out again to do more work, spending stolen free times reading on the rocking chair beside the kitchen fire.

Indeed, Kunimitsu spent his days quite unlike other young men in the county. But he hadn't always been so different; he was, in fact, born to a rich merchant family. His father Kuniharu Tezuka was known in Slev for selling the best carpets for both magic and non-magic purposes. His mother Ayana Tezuka was a beautiful sorceress whose smile and spellsongs were known by everyone in Eastern Nidenea.

Being an only son, Kunimitsu grew up provided with all that he needed and wanted. He had all the books, magic and non-magic, that other scholars wanted. He even had great toys other children envied, although he hardly used them. His past governors and governesses appraised him for his high aptitude and great passion for learning. His parents' friends watched him proudly, always saying that "Kunimitsu will grow up to be quite a fine gentleman indeed."

Things altered, however, when, due to a chronic illness, Ayana's health turned from good to bad and plummeted from bad to worst. As Ayana lay in her deathbed, her colorless lips smiling as always, she held her eleven-year old son's hand and said, "Respect every decision your father makes." But before Kunimitsu could even nod, Ayana had caught her last breath.

Kunimitsu would later learn that respecting all his father's decisions was a challenging feat.

A year and a month after his mother's passing, Tezuka left his bedchamber and abandoned his foreign language study when he heard several sets of horse hooves tap against the concrete along the grounds of their mansion. He joined the servants at the main entrance, bowing at the end of a long red carpet that was rolled out for his father's arrival.

"Welcome your new mother home, Kunimitsu," rang Kuniharu's deep voice.

Kunimitsu's back muscles tensed. But he took a calming breath and bowed deeper before standing upright. He wore a neutral frown when a tall lady approached him, her skirts sweeping across the red carpet. Her lips formed a smile that, Kunimitsu thought upon closer inspection, did not reach her eyes. Quite unlike Mother's smile, Kunimitsu's brain added.

"She is now Lady Tsukino Tezuka," said Kuniharu, smiling fondly at his new wife.

Lady Tsukino held out a hand gloved with rich white satin. Realizing what the lady meant him to do, Tezuka took the hand and kissed it swiftly but gently. Letting go, Tezuka adopted his most courteous tone, saying, "I am very pleased to meet you, my lady."

"Mother," Kuniharu insisted.

Kunimitsu blinked, reluctant to do as told. But Kuniharu was smiling down at him, waiting patiently, and his dead mother's words rang in his head. Trying to sound polite, Kunimitsu said, "Welcome home, Mother."

His new mother nodded with a satisfied smile while his father gestured two boys forward. "This is Genichirou," Kuniharu said, indicating a boy with straight black hair and whose arms were crossed. "And this," Kuniharu added, pointing to a gray-haired boy with a mole under his right eye, "is Keigo. They are your brothers, Kunimitsu."

Remembering etiquette, Kunimitsu offered a hand, which Genichirou grasped too tightly and at which Keigo only raised a thin brow. That night, Kunimitsu hoped that he would get on well with his new family. As he settled into a big oval bed and drew the bed-curtains around him, he knew all would be well, for he trusted and respected his father's decision.

The next morning, however, Kunimitsu was surprised when his father did not sit with them at breakfast. "Where is Father?" he asked cautiously.

The grumpily silent Genichirou only continued eating. The thin-browed Keigo looked as if he hadn't heard Kunimitsu's question at all.

After a minute, Lady Tsukino answered, "He went to trade." Her voice was snappy and Kunimitsu noticed that the smile was completely gone from her face.

"This porridge is runny, and there's dust everywhere in this house," said Lady Tsukino, eyeing her bowl coldly. "I will have to remove the house staff for their poor services. Our money is wasted on them."

Kunimitsu's head perked up. "But who would do the cooking and cleaning and – "

"We all will," said his new mother.

Kunimitsu trusted his new mother's words. But in the succeeding days, he discovered that he was the one who did all the cleaning, the cooking, and the washing while his family yelled out orders. One night, he found his things moved to the cold attic. Telling him not to spoil good clothes while doing housework, his new mother gave him plain clothes instead of his usual laced silk shirts and fancy coats.

The tasks that Kunimitsu did were admittedly difficult, especially during the first few weeks of work in which he knew everything of Slevian history but nothing of house chores. He burned all the meals; he bleached the colored clothes; he broke the dishes; he did everything wrong. But Kunimitsu was never punished, for, every time something went amiss, he would hear a silky chuckle as though the air was laughing at his mistakes, and all wrongs would be righted. All meals would become savory; all clothes would be cleaned and back to their proper colors; all dishes would be whole and sparkling; everything would be perfect. And, in time, Kunimitsu learned from his books how to perform house chores efficiently.

One morning, five years after his new mother's arrival, Kunimitsu woke up to the sound of his creaking window. When he put on his glasses, he saw that the sky was still bluish gray, and a look at his clock told him that he had risen up at four thirty. Choosing to start the day an hour earlier than usual, he got up to fix his bed and to wash himself. He donned a fresh set of clothes and, after making sure that his hair was as tidy as its unruliness would allow, crept cautiously out of his room.

Along the halls and down the stairs, Kunimitsu treaded lightly, taking care not to wake his family. He slipped through the backdoor and strode to the forest to gather some firewood.

Guided by the dim bluish light, Kunimitsu chose logs that would burn for a long time, bending down to pick them up while dead leaves and twigs cracked underfoot.

"Good morning."

Kunimitsu paused and frowned. Surely he hadn't been too occupied to hear footsteps approach him? Carrying the firewood in his arms, he straightened up and spun his head to see a boy of his age, a head shorter than he was, standing and smiling beside him.

"Good morning," the stranger repeated merrily.

Kunimitsu did not answer immediately. Wearing a small frown, he wondered where he had heard the gentle, cheerful voice before. Unable to recall, Kunimitsu cast his eyes on the stranger's smile – a smile that reached the eyes like Mother's, his thoughts added quickly. "Are you lost?"

The stranger shook his head so that his smooth honey-brown hair flowed freely. "No, I'm not lost," he said pleasantly. "I'm only taking a walk."

Again, Kunimitsu wondered at the nagging familiarity of the stranger's voice. But, remembering that he hadn't been visited by anyone in five years, he brushed off the thought, deciding that, perhaps, the stranger's voice just reminded him of an old friend's voice. Concomitantly, he wrinkled his brows, doubting the truth in the stranger's answer; he hardly stumbled across anyone in this part of the forest, let alone at the crack of dawn.

"Would you like some help?" asked the boy brightly, tilting his head expectantly.

Kunimitsu studied the stranger's face, the smooth white skin, the well-crafted nose, the smooth line of his jaw. Then, his eyes traveled to the stranger's arms and fingers that were both so slender they looked almost delicate. Curiously, the stranger's features appeared clear and well-lit to him despite the scarcity of light. "Are you sure you can work?"

"I am perfectly able," declared the stranger. To prove his point, he effortlessly took the bundle of logs from Kunimitsu's arms. "See?"

Knowing that the logs were already heavy, Kunimitsu nodded, convinced. "Will you wait for me? I'll show you where to put them."

"I already know." The stranger smiled reassuringly. He headed out of the forest with the logs in his arms.

Watching the stranger's disappearing figure, Kunimitsu blinked in confusion. How could the stranger possibly know where he put the firewood? He shrugged, however, figuring that the other boy could find it easily anyway. In a while, he was gathering more logs again.

The boy came back all too quickly to Kunimitsu's wonder. "Would you like some more help?" The stranger asked eagerly.

"No," Kunimitsu said briefly. "I've collected enough logs for three days. Thank you." He walked out from the thicket of trees. At the corner of his eyes, he could see the other boy sashaying jovially beside him. He couldn't help but marvel at the lightness of the stranger's steps; he was sure he did not hear a single twig snap under the other boy's foot.

Kunimitsu dumped the firewood on top of the pile outside the kitchen. He pushed the kitchen door ajar and wordlessly invited the stranger inside. Before Kunimitsu could stop him, the stranger had already taken Kunimitsu's favorite seat beside the kitchen fire.

"I am a stranger to you, aren't I? Are you sure it's okay for you to let me in?" asked the other boy, though he did not really seem concerned. He rocked the chair back and forth rather playfully.

"Yes," Kunimitsu replied as he washed his hands in the sink. He took an apron hanging at the back of the door and dried his hands on it while he tied it around his waist. "I am a stranger to you as well, and yet you helped me."

"No, you're not really a stranger to me," said the other boy, giving a cryptic smile. He got up, leaving the chair to rock slowly, and walked to Kunimitsu. "My name is Syusuke Fuji," he said, offering a hand.

"Kunimitsu Tezuka," Kunimitsu said, taking the hand. Although he expected it, Kunimitsu still found himself surprised at the soft, delicate and supple texture of Syusuke's palms. These, he thought, were hands that knew no work. "Do you live around here?" he asked, concealing his interest.

"Mm…" Syusuke said, inclining his head thoughtfully while his gentle fingers absently rubbed against Kunimitsu's calloused ones. He wore an unreadable smile. "I live around here, yes."

Feeling uncomfortable as Syusuke's fingertips brushed against the back of his hand, Kunimitsu cautiously took his hand from Syusuke's grip. He nodded curtly. Although he was sure he hadn't seen Syusuke in town, he was not going to question the truth in Syusuke's words. After all, he wasn't exactly one who went out and socialized with other people.

Remembering his manners, Kunimitsu asked, "Would you like some hot chocolate?" He filled a teapot with water and dropped in five cacao balls, which made a faint plopping sound. He strode to the fire and squatted before it while he poked the logs to make the fire rise. Then, he hung the teapot over the blue flame.

"That would be lovely," Syusuke said amiably. Kunimitsu noted that Syusuke had walked over and dropped to the rocking chair without making any sound at all.

While waiting for the chocolate to boil, Kunimitsu began peeling potatoes for the soup he was about to cook. He worked quietly, peeling as thin as possible. He nearly forgot that he had a visitor until a hand brushed against his cheeks and touched his spectacles. Wide-eyed, unaccustomed to the invasion of his personal space, Kunimitsu drew away.

"I just fixed your glasses," Syusuke chuckled, and Kunimitsu thought of the voice's familiarity once again. "Would you like some help?"

Kunimitsu looked at his hands covered with bits of soil from the garden potatoes, and self-consciously glanced at Syusuke's perfect hands. "No, I can manage," he answered briefly. "Thank you."

As Syusuke shrugged, the teapot sent a long, steamy whistle. "I'll get it," Syusuke announced, leaving Kunimitsu no choice.

Kunimitsu frowned when Syusuke took the porcelain cups quite confidently, as if all along the latter knew where to find them. Kunimitsu watched silently as Syusuke daintily poured the chocolate into two cups. He pressed his lips as Syusuke approached him with a few careless yet graceful strides.

Syusuke placed a steaming mug of the creamy chocolate in front of Tezuka before taking a sip from his own cup. He grinned childishly, licking his lips. "It's very delicious." Kunimitsu looked pointedly away, feeling blood rush up to his cheeks.

Grinning at Kunimitsu once more, Syusuke retreated to the rocking chair. He rocked the chair back and forth, tracing the cup's rim as he watched Kunimitsu resume peeling.

"Kunimitsu!"

Kunimitsu did not jump back at the call. Instead, he calmly turned and, still holding a piece of potato and a peeling knife, asked tonelessly, "Yes, Mother?"

His new mother entered the kitchen, furrowing her brows deeply as she scanned her eyes around her.

While his new mother inspected, Kunimitsu fervently glanced at the chair by the kitchen fire. He was taken aback but nonetheless relieved to discover an empty chair.

"Finish the breakfast as soon as you can," were his new mother's icy words. "The laundry is waiting." She raised a penciled brow. "Were you talking to someone? Didn't I tell you that you are not allowed to receive visitors?" Her voice hissed low and her eyes dilated terrifyingly.

Used to her taunts, Kunimitsu was not daunted. He simply said, "I was chasing rats away."

"Rats?" asked his new mother, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Yes, Mother," Kunimitsu responded quietly.

"If I see a single rat in this house, you will be sorry," said his new mother before stalking out of the kitchen, her many-layered skirt swishing behind her.

When the door finally closed, Kunimitsu said calmly, "You may come out now, Syusuke." But Syusuke did not come out. Like in usual days where no mysterious stranger offered him help, Kunimitsu found himself in the company of the kitchen's listening silence.

The following morning, Kunimitsu started work at the usual hour. By ten, he had accomplished his morning chores and had an hour to himself, which he chose to spend reading on his rocking chair beside the kitchen fire. He was getting submerged in the story, impatient to know what would happen next, when a knock came to the kitchen door. Inserting a thumb to mark the pages of his book, Kunimitsu looked up and waited for the door to open.

"Good morning," Syusuke greeted brightly, poking his head in. When Kunimitsu did not answer, Syusuke invited himself inside and walked toward Kunimitsu. He leapt up to sit on top of the kitchen counter and smiled amicably at Kunimitsu. "I brought the cup back," he said, raising the porcelain of yesterday's hot cocoa. "I'm sorry for leaving without notice."

Kunimitsu nodded curtly. He averted his gaze back to his book, reading again, drinking the story in. But after several minutes, he found that he could no longer ignore the way his hair pricked at the back of his head because of the heavy way Syusuke watched him. "Yes?" Kunimitsu asked, abrupt yet polite.

Syusuke smiled cheerily. "You like books," he stated confidently. He narrowed his already closed eyes and Kunimitsu felt like he was being heavily scrutinized. "Do books make you happy?" Syusuke asked conversationally.

Surprised by the offhand question, Kunimitsu frowned and pondered his answer. "Perhaps," he said flatly.

"Would it make you happier if you got to read more?" Syusuke asked. His smile was wide and pensive.

Kunimitsu blinked, failing to understand where their exchange was heading to. "Perhaps."

"Then," Syusuke went sedately, "would you let me do all the work for you?"

Kunimitsu's head jerked up. "I beg your pardon?"

"Would you let me do all the work for you?" Syusuke patiently asked again. "That way," he added casually, "you'll be able to read more. Won't that make you happy?"

Kunimitsu shot Syusuke a long, piercing gaze. But Syusuke remained smiling serenely at him. "I don't think -" Kunimitsu stopped. Syusuke's brows furrowed almost disappointedly. "Fine," Kunimitsu submitted, telling himself that if anything went awry, he could blame the almost pleading smile on the other boy's lips.

At once, Syusuke hopped off the counter. "I'll start cooking lunch then," he said delightedly. "But you'll have to serve it. I hope that's all right."

"It's my work," Kunimitsu pointed out.

Syusuke threw his head back and filled the kitchen with his sultry laughter. Kunimitsu couldn't help frowning at the vague familiarity of the sound. "It's my work now," Syusuke said, touching Kunimitsu's hand briefly, making the latter's fingers twitch at the contact. "You've been working far too long." He gave Kunimitsu a meaningful smile and strode away to begin with his task.

Uneasiness washed over Kunimitsu, leaving him momentarily unable to read. He watched and waited for questions from Syusuke, questions on what to do or on where things could be found. But no inquiries came. It appeared that Syusuke knew where everything was in the kitchen – the pepper, the salt, the knives, the pots. Furthermore, Syusuke did not seem to be having the troubles that Kunimitsu used to have during his first few days of kitchen work – deep cuts to bandage, burns to apply salve on. In fact, Syusuke was so efficient that in half an hour, Kunimitsu's stomach rumbled at the mouth-watering steam wafting from Syusuke's chicken stew.

"It's still early," Syusuke said, squatting before the fire, stirring the stew. His face, despite the combined heat of the flame and of midsummer, did not break a single drop of sweat. "You can eat before you serve lunch."

Kunimitsu glanced up from the book that he wasn't really reading and said sternly, "No. They eat before I do."

"But," Syusuke argued, covering the stewpot, "as I said, it's still early for their lunch." He turned to his side and smiled at Kunimitsu. "I'd like you to eat first."

Kunimitsu pressed his lips. He saw it again: the friendly smile that said "Please?" He sighed and grunted, "All right."

Beaming from ear to ear, Syusuke took a bowl and ladled a dollop of stew into it. He passed it to Kunimitsu and watched as the latter took an uncertain spoonful.

"How is it?" Syusuke asked, eyebrows arching in anxiety.

Gripping the bowl tightly, Kunimitsu looked away, intimidated by the most delicious stew he had ever tasted and flustered by Syusuke's discerning gaze. He took a deep breath and brought his eyes back to Syusuke. "It's good," he admitted quietly.

"Really?" For a fleeting instant, Kunimitsu thought he caught a glimpse of Syusuke's eyes.

"Yes," Kunimitsu said honestly. "Do you often work in the kitchen?"

Syusuke grinned and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I practically live in one."

After the rest of the family ate, Kunimitsu whisked away the dishes and brought them to the sink. He was turning the tap to run some water down the used utensils when he felt a gentle squeeze on his forearm.

"Let me wash them," Syusuke said, smiling genially. When Kunimitsu opened his mouth to speak, Syusuke shook his head, as if he knew what Kunimitsu was about to say. "Just go on reading."

"At least let me dry the dishes."

"Just read," Syusuke said affably yet insistently. "If you want to, you can tell me a story about your book when I'm done working." He started scrubbing stains off the dishes with soapy water. "I like stories, you see."

"I can lend you a book," Kunimitsu said frankly, still not budging from his place beside Syusuke.

At that, Syusuke gave a short laugh. "You feel uncomfortable without your work, don't you?" He asked, almost teasing. "But you've been working far too long, and… what if I tell you that I have little patience in reading?"

Kunimitsu frowned lightly, reading the amusement on Syusuke's lips. "I'd tell you that you are lying," he said bluntly. "Let me –"

"Tell me a story later," Syusuke said. "I'd like that."

"I'm not a very good storyteller," Kunimitsu confessed without blanching. But Syusuke kept on smiling. Kunimitsu relented for again there was the unspoken "Please?" in Syusuke's smile.

Kunimitsu still made several attempts to work after this but Syusuke bade him to go back and read by the kitchen fire. Only when his new mother or his brothers came down to make some orders did Syusuke allow him to work. By mid-afternoon, Kunimitsu had assured himself that Syusuke did everything flawlessly and, thus, absolutely nothing would go wrong. From then on, he resigned himself to reading and reading and reading.

"Dinner is ready."

Kunimitsu removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. He nodded guiltily as he wore his glasses again. "I got carried away," he said in a low, apologetic voice.

Syusuke patted Kunimitsu's shoulders affably. "How many books did you finish?" he asked interestedly while handing over the tray for dinner.

"Two," Kunimitsu replied.

"Tell me about one later," Syusuke said cheerfully and jerked his head to the door that connected the kitchen to the dining room.

When Kunimitsu came back with the dirty dishes, a steaming plate of fricassee waited for him. After putting away the used dishes, he sat down on a high stool beside Syusuke. He started eating and paused abruptly when he noticed that Syusuke had no plate before him. "Aren't you eating?"

"I'm not hungry," Syusuke said flippantly. He rested his chin at the back of his hand and seemed content with mere watching.

Seeing that Kunimitsu was done with the food, Syusuke took the other boy's plate and began washing all the dishes. Finished, he dried his hands on the apron around his waist. Then he removed the apron and hung it at the hook behind the door. Finally, he turned to Kunimitsu, smiling as usual. "Will you tell me a story? About one of the books you've read?"

Kunimitsu coughed. "I'm not a very good storyteller."

"I'll listen," Syusuke said intently, pulling up a stool in front of Kunimitsu so that the latter could see the notable lack of exhaustion on his face and the remarkable way his face shone, lit by the dancing flame.

Unused to the attention, Kunimitsu calmed himself and began telling the story. He thought he must have droned on boringly, and yet Syusuke listened aptly, hanging on to his every monotonic word. At times, he paused to ask if Syusuke still wanted to continue, and the other boy always nodded enthusiastically in response. When sometimes he failed to remember certain things, Syusuke asked questions or shared comments to guide him with the flow of the story.

"That's the end," Kunimitsu finished flatly.

"Ah, such a compelling story," Syusuke said pleasantly.

Kunimitsu only nodded. He threw a glance at the window and realized that the moon was already high up in the dark sky. "It's late," he told Syusuke. "Your family must be waiting for you."

Syusuke's eyes lingered on Kunimitsu's face for a long moment. Then Syusuke finally said, "Perhaps I should go." He rose from his stool and smiled.

Kunimitsu got to his feet as well and showed Syusuke to the door. "Thank you," Kunimitsu said in a hushed, almost timid voice as they walked down the path that led to the forest.

"Are you happy?" asked Syusuke in an urgent whisper.

Blinking, slightly taken aback, Kunimitsu said, "Yes. I suppose I am."

Syusuke's face glowed and seemed to light their way. "Then will you let me do your work tomorrow as well?"

Kunimitsu halted in his tracks to search Syusuke's face, trying to understand why the other boy was so concerned about helping him. He ended up even more puzzled, for Syusuke just smiled at him enigmatically. "I don't think that's proper," he said calmly.

Syusuke's smile remained, but his brows met. "Why?"

"It's an abuse of your kindness," Kunimitsu explained briefly.

"No, it's not," Syusuke said hastily.

"I'm grateful." Kunimitsu bowed his head. "But I don't like passing my work to other people. I had a lapse in judgment today."

Syusuke lowered his head to watch his feet. Then he flashed the imploring smile that Kunimitsu wanted to avoid. "Will you at least let me help?"

Kunimitsu shut his eyes, knowing full well that he couldn't say no to that smile. "Fine," he said, opening his eyes. "If it pleases you."

"I'm very glad," Syusuke said sincerely, his face gleaming even brighter if possible. Shortly, he allowed Kunimitsu to see his deep, arresting blue eyes. "I shall see you tomorrow," he said, once again snapping his eyelids close.

"Won't you need some light?" Kunimitsu asked as they continued to approach the forest.

"I'll find my way," Syusuke said uncaringly. He nodded his head and waved his hand before walking to the forest, where Kunimitsu assumed a shortcut led him to his home.

When Syusuke's figure disappeared among the tall, shadowy trees, Kunimitsu walked back to the mansion and closed the door.

Syusuke came early the next morning just as Kunimitsu was preparing breakfast. Murmuring his thanks, he accepted the cup of hot chocolate that Kunimitsu offered and, rocking the chair beside the fire playfully, waited patiently as Kunimitsu served breakfast. When Kunimitsu returned, they began the day by washing the dishes.

Just like on the preceding day, before Syusuke left, he asked Kunimitsu to tell him a story, which Kunimitsu felt compelled to tell after all the help Syusuke had given.

Kunimitsu was taken aback, however, when Syusuke asked again, "Are you happy?"

Nodding, Kunimitsu answered, "I suppose I am."

Syusuke smiled, almost seeming inordinately pleased, and asked, "Will you let me help you tomorrow, then?"

Kunimitsu did not have any reason to say no, for although he did not show it, he felt thankful for Syusuke's help and, if he cared enough to admit, for Syusuke's company. When he relented, Syusuke's stunning blue eyes showed.

After that day, Kunimitsu found himself in Syusuke's constant presence. Although he liked working alone, he did not feel uncomfortable with Syusuke. In fact, he felt himself suddenly making room for Syusuke in his routine-filled life, and he found it surprisingly easy. He reckoned that he was not troubled by Syusuke because of the other boy's inexplicable but friendly familiarity. Plus, Syusuke respected his need for a quiet environment; Syusuke neither asked prying questions nor shared senseless things. Everyday, they shared a listening and understanding silence. And, once in a while, Kunimitsu considered that having someone to talk to wasn't too bad either.

Still, Kunimitsu spent much time pondering on Syusuke's mysterious aspects. He wondered why Syusuke never broke a drop of sweat despite long exposure to the sun. He wondered why after a protracted, exhausting day, Syusuke's face was as fresh, bright and rosy as it had been in the morning. He wondered why Syusuke never seemed to have as much need to eat, drink or rest as a normal person did. He wondered how every time another person came to them, Syusuke suddenly disappeared, and how, by the second the person was gone, Syusuke reappeared, whispering a quick "I'm back" in Kunimitsu's ears.

Once, when they finished late at night, for the family had guests over and Syusuke refused to leave until the last piece of utensil was washed, Kunimitsu asked, "Won't your family worry?"

Syusuke gave him an enigmatic smile, saying, "No, they won't."

Then, Kunimitsu suspected that Syusuke was hiding the truth. But since Kunimitsu was not one to ask too many questions and Syusuke did not give proper answers anyway, Kunimitsu asked no further.

In addition, Kunimitsu also wanted to know why Syusuke seemed to know everything about him, his chores, his house. He wanted to know why Syusuke asked him to tell stories despite the knowledge that he told stories too briefly and too blandly. Most of all, he wanted to know why every night, Syusuke never failed to ask, "Are you happy?"

Apart from these things, Kunimitsu was perturbed by his own reactions to Syusuke. Each time their fingers brushed or their knees bumped or their thighs touched in the middle of laundry or feeding the horse or plucking vegetables, Kunimitsu felt his cheeks go numb and his fingers turn sweaty. Every time Syusuke gave him the imploring smile, he absurdly never objected to anything the other boy asked. In all the times Syusuke asked him if he was happy, he felt his heart pumping in his throat, as if Syusuke's concern elated him.

In the meantime, while he still searched for logical answers, he blamed everything on Syusuke's alert, electric blue eyes.

Summer passed, and autumn entered almost unnoticeably. As the rain poured heavily, Kunimitsu lounged on his rocking chair, convinced by Syusuke to stop working since the family had gone out to visit friends. Kunimitsu sniffed and covered his hand before barking a cough.

Syusuke tilted his head to frown and smile at Kunimitsu. "Are you feeling well?" he asked, concern lining his voice.

"I'm fine," Kunimitsu said quickly.

But Syusuke seemed to know that Kunimitsu was lying or at least hiding the truth. He got up from his stool and said, "I'll make some tea."

As Syusuke bustled to get the tea leaves, three loud thudding knocks came from the main door. "Should I get it?" Syusuke asked.

Kunimitsu shook his head promptly. He did not want anyone to know that he had a guest, not willing to take the chance of his mother finding out about Syusuke.

When he opened the door, a man clad in a maroon and white raincoat, standing by a wet horse, handed him four yellow envelopes that were all sealed with the Castle's mark.

"These are invitations to the Princess' ball," the man whom Kunimitsu assumed was a messenger said. "Please give them to other members of your family."

Kunimitsu nodded curtly and the messenger bowed. The messenger mounted his horse and rode away.

Kunimitsu shut the door and checked the envelopes. One was addressed in fancy cursive letters to his new Mother, one was for Genichirou, one was for Keigo, and one, to his surprise, was for him. He took his invitation and left the rest on the foyer. Then, tearing his envelope open, he walked to the kitchen.

Syusuke, who had occupied the rocking chair that Kunimitsu had left, lifted his head and shot an inquiring look at the piece of paper on Kunimitsu's hand. A teapot spewed steam on the fire beside him.

Dropping to a stool, Kunimitsu said, "It's an invitation for the ball to find the Princess a groom."

"Indeed?" Syusuke asked, arching a brow with interest.

"Everyone," Kunimitsu paused to cough. He took a deep breath and continued, "is invited." He folded the piece of paper in his hand and inserted it back into the envelope. "You must have an invitation at your home."

"I don't think I'm invited," Syusuke said, oddly unconcerned with the Castle's supposed disregard for him. He grinned widely. "You should go, though. It sounds fun."

Kunimitsu coughed. "I don't think I'll be allowed. Besides, it's in three days."

Syusuke's eyes flew open. "You really don't look well," he said worriedly. "And I can help you prepare for the ball."

"I'm not interested," Kunimitsu said flatly before coughing again.

As Kunimitsu served dinner that night, the rest of his family read their invitations to the Princess' ball.

"Kunimitsu," Lady Tsukino called tersely. "You're not going to this ball."

Holding back a cough, Kunimitsu nodded; he had already expected as much.

"One of my sons," his new mother announced, "is going to marry the Princess. Do you hear?"

"Tarundoru," Genichirou said courtly.

Keigo flicked his hand. "The Princess will be awed by my beauty," he said haughtily.

Kunimitsu poured juice into his new mother's empty glass and said, "Yes, Mother."

"I'm glad you understand," said Lady Tsukino coolly.

Although Kunimitsu thought he had made it clear to Syusuke that he wouldn't be attending the ball and that he was feeling perfectly well, the other boy never stopped inquiring about his health or about the ball. Kunimitsu effectively dodged the insistent questions by focusing all his attention on whatever task was at hand or by completely ignoring Syusuke. But when the day ended and as they took a usual walk toward the forest, Syusuke smiled at him so genuinely that he knew he had to tell the truth.

"Are you happy?" asked Syusuke, watching their boots splotch against the muddy ground.

"I suppose I am," Kunimitsu said in a croaky voice as he tried not to cough.

Syusuke glanced at him and he made a sharp intake of breath when he felt Syusuke's unusually cold palm on his forehead. "You're running a fever," Syusuke said slowly.

Drawing away from Syusuke's hand, "I'm quite fine," Kunimitsu said.

Syusuke sighed. "At this rate, you won't be able to go to the ball," he whispered pensively.

"I'm not going," Kunimitsu pressed. "Go home."

"Don't you want to marry the Princess?" Syusuke asked. Rare lines of worry marked his face. His slightly opened eyes danced with anxiety.

"Just go home," Kunimitsu said stiffly.

Syusuke beheld Kunimitsu for a long moment. Then, as though the action took all his will, he nodded his head and walked away.

Deciding that his fever would hinder him from tomorrow's work, Kunimitsu went straight to his room and forced himself to sleep.

After an hour of disturbed torpor, Kunimitsu rolled to his side, feeling his muscles ache, his head throb, his body burn. His breathing became shallow and rapid. Sweating profusely, he groaned in pain.

"Kunimitsu?"

Although his eyes felt heavy and ablaze, Kunimitsu opened them. And then he thought that perhaps his fever must be so bad that he had reached a state of delirium; he was sure Syusuke had gone home, and his new mother couldn't have led Syusuke to his room.

"Kunimitsu," said Syusuke in a firmer manner, and Kunimitsu felt a warm hand enclose his left hand.

Kunimitsu shut his stinging eyes again. "What are you doing here?" he asked upon realizing that the Syusuke who was sitting on the small chair beside his bed was not a result of his fever.

"You still haven't guessed." Kunimitsu certainly heard a smile in Syusuke's voice. He felt a hand gently raise his head from his stiff pillow and a warm piece of china touch his lips. "Drink this. It will make you well by tomorrow. I made it myself."

Kunimitsu hesitated, but Syusuke did not remove what felt and smelled like a cup of herb broth. He took a quick gulp, but Syusuke tipped the cup so that he had no choice but to drink all of the bitter liquid. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand when the cup was taken away. "What haven't I guessed?" he asked, feeling irascible because of his sickness and his confusion.

Kunimitsu felt fingertips stroke his forehead in an unnervingly soothing way. "I'm your faerie," he heard Syusuke say.

"My faerie?" Kunimitsu asked curtly, eyes still closed. His breath became slow and steady.

"Yes," was Syusuke's gentle response.

No answer came from Kunimitsu, who had been lulled to sleep by Syusuke's calming fingers.

Feeling as though he had slept far too long and worrying that he was late for his work, Kunimitsu bolted up from bed and groped the window for his glasses. Once his glasses were in place, he turned to see Syusuke watching him with amusement.

"It's still very early," Syusuke said, indicating the creaky window that opened to a very dark sky. He looked quite pleasant, just as though he hadn't been up all night. He bent down to his side and grabbed a teapot, pouring some tea that spread its sweet, refreshing aroma in the room. "Drink this."

"You didn't sleep," Kunimitsu said pointedly, receiving the teacup with both hands.

"I don't need sleep the way you do," Syusuke said in a mild, reassuring voice.

Without saying a word, Kunimitsu looked away and took a sip.

"Perhaps you don't believe?" Although Kunimitsu could see from the corner of his eyes that Syusuke was smiling, he knew that Syusuke sounded rather sad and disappointed. "I didn't tell you," Syusuke continued in a low voice, "because I thought it wouldn't appeal to your sense of logic."

Staring at the swirling chamomile on his cup, Kunimitsu inwardly agreed. Syusuke's explanation did not make sense… did it? He took a long sip of tea, feeling himself enclosed by its warmth. He threw a calculating glance at Syusuke, whose smile did not wane. Did it make sense? he wondered. Did it explain why he felt familiar around Syusuke? Did it explain Syusuke's eternally spirited countenance? Did it explain Syusuke's mysterious disappearances?

"How long have you been watching me?"

"Five years," replied Syusuke. He offered a fond smile. "I've been watching you since your mother died."

At that moment, Kunimitsu's eyes fell on Syusuke's lips. "You smile like Mother," he noted quietly.

Syusuke nodded. "I believe I was chosen exactly because of that."

When Kunimitsu looked at Syusuke, he saw that the other boy's smile was saying "Please" once again. Then, he knew that Syusuke would be devastated if he sustained his disbelief. He took a long swig of the tea to clear his head. Finally, he nodded. "I believe you."

Syusuke's smile grew so wide that Kunimitsu felt his heart tighten.

Quite delightedly, Syusuke raised the teapot to refill Kunimitsu's cup. Then, he said, "Will you let me help you prepare for the ball, then?"

"I'm not going."

Syusuke wrinkled his forehead in thought. "Why not? Won't you be happy if you get to marry the Princess?"

Kunimitsu paused to watch Syusuke's worried face before saying dismissively. "No."

Syusuke stared at Kunimitsu. "No?" he asked dubiously. "Then what will make you happy?"

Kunimitsu gave no answer. But he regretted his decision later that day for Syusuke never let go of the question.

After completing all of Kunimitsu's chores, they took a habitual walk to the forest.

As per usual, Syusuke asked, "Are you happy?"

Kunimitsu stared straight ahead, seeing the tall, dark trees. "I suppose I am."

Syusuke inclined his head to see Kunimitsu's face. "What else will make you happy?"

"Why do you always concern yourself with my happiness?" Kunimitsu asked tonelessly.

A gentle smile graced Syusuke's lips. He reminded, "I'm your faerie."

Kunimitsu bit his lower lip. He nodded, reminding himself that faeries did everything to make their charges happy. No wonder Syusuke did everything that pleased him. He cast Syusuke a searching look and asked, "Where do you stay at night?"

"Oh? You mean when I'm not watching you?" Syusuke's eyebrows arched. He smiled pensively, considering his answer. "I mostly stay in the forest. I talk to the nocturnal animals when I get bored." He grinned sheepishly at Kunimitsu.

Kunimitsu's features softened. "You don't really live around here," he remarked.

"I do!" Syusuke said cheerfully. He lowered his head and chuckled. "I watch you all the time, you see."

Kunimitsu coughed.

Almost instantly, Syusuke raised his head. "Are you all right?"

Kunimitsu turned away to hide his furiously red face. "Yes," he said stiffly. When his cheeks felt normal again, he turned to Syusuke. "You can spend the night in my room if you want."

"Really?" Syusuke said, opening his eyes, his face shining in a manner that told Kunimitsu that Syusuke was indeed a faerie, a beautiful one.

Kunimitsu heaved a deep breath and nodded. "Yes," he said decidedly. "But you'll have to make yourself invisible so Mother won't see you."

At once, Syusuke disappeared from view. As Kunimitsu entered the house and climbed to the attic, he did not hear a single shuffle from Syusuke's feet, but he could tell from the familiar, listening air that Syusuke kept pace beside him.

As the door clicked shut, Syusuke became visible again. A very, very content smile touched his lips as he watched Kunimitsu prepare the bed.

"My bed is small. I'll put out several blankets on the floor if you don't mind," Kunimitsu said, opening his closet in search for clean sheets.

"I don't mind at all," Syusuke said cheerfully. He walked to help Kunimitsu unfold several layers of blanket on the floor.

Kunimitsu took a pillow from his bed and set it on top of the sheets. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll just change clothes. Would you want to change too?"

Syusuke smiled gently. "It's not necessary." Proving his point, he gave his hand a graceful wave, and thin, comfortable pajamas replaced his day clothes.

Kunimitsu nodded his head and went to the small bathroom adjoining his room. He came back wearing nightclothes. "Will you be sleeping tonight?" he asked as he settled on his bed.

Sitting on the make-shift mattress, "Perhaps," Syusuke answered cryptically. He smiled at Kunimitsu, watching the other boy beneath his half-closed eyes.

"You may read if you don't want to sleep," Kunimitsu said, jerking his head to his bookcase. He was about to slip under his blanket when he noticed that Syusuke was regarding him thoughtfully. "What is it?" he asked.

"What else will make you happy?" Syusuke asked shortly.

Kunimitsu frowned. "Why do you always concern yourself with my happiness?"

"Faeries are made that way," Syusuke explained. "We will do everything we can to make our charges happy. Don't mortal tales say that?"

"They do," Kunimitsu replied. "Have you always been a faerie?"

Syusuke's eyes opened, revealing surprise. He smiled wistfully. "No, I haven't. I was sixteen when I was Taken from my family… Those who have been Taken do not appear to grow old like pure faeries. We do not rule over lands. Instead, we guide charges who have lost their parents."

"If you were a mortal once, then there's something that must make you happy apart from whatever pleases your charge," Kunimitsu said matter-of-factly.

Syusuke gazed up at Kunimitsu, his smile was wide and mystic, as though it guarded a great secret. "Your happiness will give me pure bliss."

Puzzled because he knew Syusuke was telling the truth, Kunimitsu asked, "Why?"

But Syusuke only shook his head. He raised a hand to cover Kunimitsu's. "Tell me," he said in a commanding yet soft whisper. "What will make you happy?"

Kunimitsu glanced at the Castle seen from his window. He had spent an entire day searching for the answer. Around dusk, as he watched Syusuke tuck a strand of honey-brown hair behind an ear, he found out what he wanted. "You already make me happy," he said in a voice so low he didn't think Syusuke would hear.

But, perhaps because of his magical nature, Syusuke heard. "Surely you're joking?" he asked. Yet his hand squeezed Kunimitsu's. "I'm about four hundred years old and you are only seventeen." He laughed. But when he saw Kunimitsu's serious countenance, he said, "You mean it."

Kunimitsu nodded. "If I made a wish, will you grant it?" he asked, watching the joy flow from Syusuke's glowing face.

"Anything," Syusuke swore.

After taking a deep breath, Kunimitsu said, "I wish that you will be happy."

"Me? But-" Syusuke stopped and stared, his eyes grew round with a sudden, astonished puzzlement.

Kunimitsu's eyes widened too. In a blink of an eye, the beautiful, almost inhuman radiance that Syusuke exuded had disappeared. Syusuke's hair lacked its usual inexplicable luster. When Syusuke open his awed eyes, they were still blue but they had less wisdom in them. Something that Kunimitsu could not pinpoint had changed about Syusuke. Syusuke was still Syusuke but there was something impalpably different about him.

Syusuke stood up to look at his hands, his body, his feet. He brought his gaze back to Kunimitsu and said in a low, awed whisper, "You made me mortal."

Kunimitsu studied Syusuke's face. "Then it's probably what makes you happy," he said quietly.

"You…" Syusuke stopped to throw his head back in laughter. Still laughing, he dropped next to Kunimitsu on the bed.

When Syusuke seemed to have calmed down, he opened his stunning blue eyes and brought his full attention to the other boy.

Kunimitsu's eyes grew round and wide when he felt Syusuke's hands cup his cheeks. His breath hitched when he saw Syusuke's face approach him. He froze when he felt Syusuke's lips press against his, giving him a long, sweet first kiss.

"I've never shown myself to any charge but you," Syusuke said, burying his head on the crook of Kunimitsu's neck.

His arms unconsciously wrapping around Syusuke's waist, Kunimitsu felt too aware of Syusuke's scent. "I don't understand," he confessed.

Syusuke lifted his head so that his lips brushed against Kunimitsu's left ear. "Even when I'm mortal," he murmured, sending sparks down Kunimitsu's spine, "your happiness is my command."

_Henceforth, they spent ever after by showering each other with happiness. End._

**A/N**: Reviews will be very much loved. ORHANM will be updated next week for Tezuka's birthday. Oh, and **to all Filipina fangirls** of TeFu, please go to my profile page and read the announcement. Thanks!


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